


start to feel it fade away

by eovaldi (dangerdays)



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Light Angst, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-17 23:45:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerdays/pseuds/eovaldi
Summary: Waking up alone is awful, walking around alone is awful, and sometimes it feels like this black hole is inside of his chest, swallowing up everything good.





	start to feel it fade away

There are so many things for Ian to hate about winter.

He hates the way the cold bites your face when you walk outside. He hates the way the wind comes off the lake and makes it feel like your bones are going to burst. He hates the way he sticks around in the offseason, instead of going home, like a snowbird. The desert gets cold, but not like this. 

He hates that there is no baseball. He works out, sure. Reads up on news and stuff. But in the middle of January, it feels like it’s never going to return. Like the sun will never stop setting at 4:30 in the afternoon, and that he won’t ever be warm again. Baseball gives him structure, something to do, a schedule, a goal, friends to fight with, enemies to fight against. All of that fills his brain to the brim, leaves no room for the rest of it.

Ian feels lonely during the summer, sure, but it’s a different lonely. It’s not this bone-ache loneliness that swallows up his whole brain. Waking up alone is awful, walking around alone is awful, and sometimes it feels like this black hole is inside of his chest, swallowing up everything good.

There is something about being around men that makes Ian feel more like a man in general. It soothes some of the residual nagging in his brain. The claps on the shoulder, smacks on the ass. Someone even kissing him on the cheek as a joke. It makes Ian feel more full. It was difficult to explain, and he’d tried.

“Do you feel more like a man, around other men?” His therapist had quirked an eyebrow. “I mean, speaking one guy to another. Not - the transsexual thing - pretend I’m normal.”

“Ian.” He took on that tone that meant that they were trodding over a familiar rode, footsteps filling into well worn holes. “We’ve discussed this. About the way you talk about yourself.”

Ian has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, “I know - but the original question.”

“I think it might have to do with being transgender, that being around other men validates that experience. Gender is a social-”

“Performance, I know, I know.” Ian had heard it a million times. “So what you’re telling me is, normal - I mean. Cis men. Don’t feel this way.”

“I didn’t say that. I said that I thought you might be feeling like this because of your unique status. I’m sure that there are other people...have you tried going to the support group I recommended?”

Ian scowled. Even remembering the conversation was annoying. Talk therapy was helpful for a lot of people, but for him it felt like picking at the scab, instead of addressing the reason why the wound was there in the first place. 

And the reason was because it was too fucking cold outside, and baseball didn’t happen when it was cold, and all the men in their high socks, chewing gum and touching Ian and praising Ian and making Ian laugh, well, they weren’t around to remind him he was real. 

It made him wonder if he was the only one waiting on the summer to make him feel whole again. He couldn’t be the only one. It just couldn’t be logical.

**Author's Note:**

> i was depressed about being trans today  
> title is from end of the summer by joyce manor


End file.
